The forest is alive with sounds I’ve never noticed before—the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs under weight, the low growl that vibrates through the air. My chest tightens, and I glance at Asher.
His eyes are sharp, scanning every shadow, every movement, while my mother grips a branch like a weapon, though I know she’s struggling.
“They’re close,” Asher mutters, voice low, calm, but I hear the edge of warning in it. “Stay together. Don’t split up.”
I nod, though I feel a rising panic beneath my ribs. This is different. This isn’t training. This isn’t sparring. This is survival.
A low snarl comes from the trees ahead. I freeze. The rival pack. The ones who tried to take me before. Their silhouettes slip between the trunks, sleek, predatory, coordinated. My stomach twists. I recogniz
